


what hell you put me through

by ohmcgee



Series: ohmcgee's mallverse [31]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M, boy angst, ew feelings, mallverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7437197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Roy,” Jay asks. “When was the last time you hooked up with somebody that wasn’t Tim?”</i>
  <br/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	what hell you put me through

“Off,” Tim’s muffled voice comes from under his pillow. “OFF.” 

Roy fumbles around for his phone, finally finding it under Tim’s skirt at the foot of the bed, and swipes across it to get his alarm to stop going off. Tim changed it to _I Kissed a Girl_ one night when he was toasted and Roy keeps forgetting to change it back to something that doesn’t make him want to toss his phone out the window. 

Roy drops his phone on the nightstand made out of crates they stole from the store and grunts when he falls back on the bed, throwing his arm around Tim’s waist. Tim’s always burning up in the morning, even when he pushes the blankets down to his feet all night and has the ceiling fan turned up to eleven. He hates cuddling, but he’s always so damn hot that’s it kind of a non-issue anyway. The only time they ever stay that close is when they’re too fucked out to care. Or when they’ve done a bunch of good E and Tim thinks if they get close enough Roy’s freckles will rub off on him. 

Roy flops back over to his side after the Tim-shaped space heater raises his body heat about twenty degrees and falls asleep for another thirty minutes until Tim’s alarm goes off this time, buzzing across the nightstand on his side until he swings a skinny arm out and stops it. 

They follow each other into the shower silently because Tim has to have at least two caffeinated or sugary beverages in him before you even want to think about having any kind of conversation with him. Roy gets the water hot while Tim brushes his teeth, then they swap and Roy joins him while Tim’s in the middle of soaping up his hair. Tim figured out a long time ago that they could sleep in a lot later if they just showered together and well, Roy pretty much had zero complaints about that. 

When they swap out and Roy gets under the spray to wash his hair, Tim gets on his knees and swallows Roy down. Roy gets soap all in his eyes that stings like a motherfucker, then reaches down and grabs Tim’s hair with his soapy hands. He never lasts long in the mornings like this and Tim knows that by now, knows that Roy can’t stand for him to drag it out like he usually does, so Tim goes down on him hard and deep, the wet, obscene noises he’s making around Roy’s dick louder than the spray of the water, until Roy’s fingers twists around Tim’s hair and he spills in his mouth with a loud shout that echoes off the tile. 

Tim stands up and frowns at him for getting his hair all soapy again, gets back underneath the water to rinse it out. Roy stands under it with him and kisses him, tastes himself on Tim’s tongue and the back of his throat, all the little corners of his mouth, then gets his hand around Tim’s dick and lets Tim fuck his fist. It takes Tim longer to come in the mornings, so when he has all the soap washed out of his hair Roy turns him around and pushes two fingers inside of him while he jerks him off, watches Tim bite a ring of teeth marks into his own arm when he clenches around Roy’s fingers and comes for him. 

Since Dick’s been spending most of his time at M’s lately they can walk out of the bathroom without having Dick fuss at them to put on clothes. Roy walks into the kitchen and grabs a couple of Red Bulls while Tim looks for clean clothes to wear. 

“Where’s my,” Tim starts, picking up a pair of black skinny jeans with holes in the knees, then a red, pleather skirt with black zippers all over it. 

“This one?” Roy asks, picking up Tim’s old uniform skirt from private school. 

Tim just shakes his head. “The one with the,” he makes a couple of vague hand gestures and Roy nods, picks up a case of ramen in the corner and pulls out a black skirt with patches of lace. 

“That one,” Tim says. “Do you know where my --”

“You got wine on it the other night when we were at M’s,” Roy says. Tim only ever wears the gold crop top with that skirt, so that’s what he figures he was going to say. 

In the end, Timgoes with the pleated skirt and a button up, with a pair of rainbow fishnets, and Roy throws on whatever has the least offensive smell. They go by Burger King on the way into work and Tim shoves hash rounds in his face, finally showing signs of life when he starts trying to throw them into Roy’s mouth as he drives. 

“You’re making a mess,” he says, turning sideways in the truck, his back against the window and his mary jane’s in Roy’s lap. 

“I’m watching the road, stop throwing them at me!” Roy says and Tim laughs when another one hits the side of Roy’s cheek. 

“Stop wasting your food, Roy. There are children starving in Africa.”

Roy ends up pulling over half a mile from the mall and tackling Tim across the truck and the only reason they make it to work on time is because a police officer pulls up behind them to ask what the problem is and Roy’s public indecency bingo card is all filled up, thank you very much. 

He lets them go with a warning, thankfully, and Tim celebrates by giving him the best road head _ever_ the rest of the way. 

 

: : : 

 

Work is shit because it’s summer and all the little brats are out of school and don’t have anything better to do than come in their store and touch everything and complain about the music and ask Roy sixty-four questions about what his tattoos _mean._

“Do you even _speak_ Arabic?” Some red-headed kid that reminds Roy a little too much of himself at that age asks and after Roy stands there and tells the kid to take his shitty Justin Bieber haircut and his fake lip ring out of his store _in_ arabic, Tim drags him to the back of the store and sucks him so hard Roy actually thinks about checking his dick for bruising after. 

Once Jason and Steph come in it gets a little slower, so he and Tim fuck off for a little while, scamming free cinnabon from the cute girl behind the counter that gets all flustered when Tim sticks his tongue down Roy’s throat in front of her, and they catch the tail end of Finding Nemo in the Disney store on their way back. 

When they get back to the store Steph and Jay are propped up on the counters talking about their plans for the weekend. 

“We might go out,” Jay says, catching one of those rubber bracelets when Steph shoots it at him. “Depends on if that tw -- uh, Damian’s mom decides to get him this weekend.”

“You can call her a twat, you know,” Steph says. “Because she totally is.”

“I know,” Jay says, flinging the bracelet back at Steph and laughing when it hits her right between the eyes. “I just shouldn’t get in the habit of it, ‘cause then I might say it around the kid and...anyway. You gonna hook up with Dinah this weekend?”

Steph shrugs, chips at the polish on her nails. “I dunno, maybe. We’re not really into that exclusive thing. What are you guys doing?” She asks, turning to Tim and Roy. Roy kind of feels bad for her because he knows how Dinah is and he knows how brutally in love with her Steph is. 

“Dunno,” Roy says, leaning against the counter on his elbows, chipping at the blue nail polish Tim put there a few days ago when they were watching Food Truck wars stoned.

“You should ask the hottie from Victoria Secret out,” Steph says. “She looks just trashy enough for you.”

Roy flips her off. “Not really in the mood for high maintenance right now, but thanks.”

“There’s that guy that works at the Radio Shack,” Jay says, joining in. “He’s got that sweet and innocent thing about him that you like to ruin.”

“Heh,” Roy says, cutting his eyes at Tim who’s standing at the front of the store, chatting with some asshole in a _manbun._ “Maybe.”

“Roy,” Jay says conspiratorily, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “When was the last time you hooked up with somebody that wasn’t Tim?”

Roy rolls his eyes and pops a piece of gum in his mouth. “I dunno, man. Two weeks ago?”

“Yeah,” Jay narrows his eyes at him. “Who was it?”

Roy glares back. “Fine, it was like a couple of months.”

Jay’s eyes get so fucking big he looks like a damn anime character and Roy wants to laugh at him, so he does and Tim asks him what’s so funny when he comes back over, tonguing the straw of his drink. 

“Nothing,” Roy says. “Jay’s just being a dick because he’s a soccer mom now.”

“Uh huh,” Jay says, hopping off the counter. He gets all pissy when they call him a soccer mom. It’s pretty cute, actually. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m worried about your stupid ass, does it, Harper?”

Okay, maybe not so cute. 

“Wait,” Tim says. “What?”

“Nothing --”

“Roy,” Jason interrupts. “Hasn’t fucked anyone besides you in at least two months. What do you think about that?”

Roy watches as Tim puts his drink down on the counter and wet his lips the way he does when he’s stalling. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Am I supposed to think something?”

“Ugh,” Jay groans and mutters something Roy can’t hear as he walks away. 

Roy watches and waits. Tim comes behind the counter with him and clocks back in, fiddles with the buttons on his lanyard. He can’t tell if he’s acting weird or not. Tim’s always a _little_ weird. 

The thing is, Roy doesn’t even know why he hasn’t fucked anybody else in a while. It’s just that with Dick gone he’s been staying over at their place almost every night, even the nights Tim goes out with someone else and doesn’t come home. It’s just bigger and nicer and honestly more sanitary than his place. It has a tv and a working refrigerator and heating and cooling and most of the time it has Tim. 

The last time Roy tried to hook up with someone else it was this art history major that wore glasses and tight, tight t-shirts. He was hot enough, had the tight little body that Roy likes, but when Roy fucked him he made fucking chihuahua noises and afterward he wanted to be the big spoon. So yeah, Roy kind of took a little hiatus after that. 

It’s not like he hasn’t been getting laid. Even on the nights when Tim goes out with someone else, he’ll come home and crawl on top of Roy on the couch, take the remote out of his hand and kiss him until he’s hard and leaking and begging Tim to let him in him. Last week Roy was in the middle of catching up on Game of Thrones and Tim walked in and said, “Oh, I haven’t seen this one,” and sat on Roy’s dick backward so he could watch it while Roy fucked him. 

Roy still has no idea what happened to the youngest Stark kid. 

“Hey,” Roy says, leaning against the counter as he watches Tim put a new sticker on his name tag. “This going to be a thing?”

“Huh?” Tim says, looking up at him like he’s lost in thought. “Oh. That? No, I don’t care.”

“Oh,” Roy says, feeling a weight lifted that he wasn’t even aware was on him. “Sweet. You wanna go out with Steph and them tonight?”

“Sure,” Tim says, biting his bottom lip as he tries to get the sticker straight. “Sounds great.”

 

: : :

 

Tim doesn’t lie much. It’s one of the things Roy likes best about him, aside from his gorgeous dick and his fucking amazing mouth and the way he takes no shit from nobody. Roy likes people who can straight up tell you what they think and what’s going on. Brutal honestly he can deal with, playing fucking games he really can’t. 

About an hour and a half after they’ve been at the club M works at Roy has counted at least three people Tim has tried to shove at him. One of them he actually literally shoved into Roy on the dancefloor and Roy was into that for a few minutes because her rack was fucking amazing and she filled out a dress like Tim could only dream of. But when she backed up against him her hair smelled like coconut, not sour apples, and she kept throwing him off his rhythm and he just wasn’t feeling it anymore. 

By the fourth one though, Roy takes the fucking hint. He gets it now. Tim’s “I don’t care” was actually, _it freaks me out a lot so I’m going to shove a bunch of people at you to make sure you understand what’s going on here._ So, after that Roy heads back up to the bar and orders a couple of shots, downs all three of them in a row and forgets about where Tim is or what he’s doing. He finds a cute kid who looks like he just walked out of an Old Navy ad and they get hot and sweaty dancing to Nicki and Roy doesn’t think about Tim at all. 

 

: : :

 

“Hey,” Roy says, finding Steph when he’s ready to leave. Taron (Talon?) is standing behind him, his hair all fucked up from having Roy’s hands all in it, marks all up and down his neck from Roy’s teeth. “Tim?”

“Uh,” Steph says, looking from Roy to Taron (Talon?). “He left a while ago.”

“Cool,” Roy says. “I’m leaving too.”

“Roy,” Steph says, standing up. “Hey, you --”

“Sorry Steph,” Roy grins, leaning in and giving her wet kiss on the cheek. “Places to go, people to do.”

He lets Taron -- definitely Taron -- drive them home because Roy’s in no fucking shape, only he kind of forgets and tells him Tim and Dick’s address instead of his own, but whatever. It’s not like Tim’s going to be back any time tonight. 

Once they get inside the apartment Roy gets as far as the couch before he decides fuck it and starts stripping, He gets his hand on Taron’s dick as he kisses him, gets him hard enough that Taron begs him to bend him over the couch and fuck him. 

It’s nice, hearing someone beg for him for a change. And Taron feels good, tight, moans sweet and soft when Roy starts fucking into him, and pretty soon Roy isn’t thinking about anything except for how much he loves _fucking_ , the sound of skin slapping together, the way his nails leave bright pink streaks down Taron’s back when he drags them down his skin.

“Fuck, you feel fucking good,” He grunts out, gripping Taron’s hips tight, digging his fingers around the bones there. 

“Yeah,” Taron moans. “Harder.”

Roy fucks him so hard the legs of the couch start to scoot across the carpet, until the only sound he can hear is the blood rushing in his head and Taron’s litany of _fuck I’m gonna come_. 

“Well fucking do it already then,” someone says across the room and Roy looks up to see Tim standing there in his sweats, arms crossed over his chest. “I needed a drink.”

“Fuck,” Roy mutters and feels Taron coming around him. He doesn’t blame him, if he was that close he wouldn’t have been able to hold off either. He pulls out as soon as he can though.

“Uh,” Taron says, pulling his pants up. “Was that your boyfriend? Is he going to murder me?”

“No and no,” Roy says, running his finger through his hair. “Well, maybe. It’s complicated.”

Taron just nods. “I’ll, uh, get out of your hair then. Good luck with your not boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Roy says as he watches Taron leave, then walks into the kitchen and glares at Tim. “We need to talk.”

Tim puts down the orange juice carton he was drinking from. “Yeah, we do.”

“Good,” Roy says. “I --”

“You don’t live here.”

Roy just stares at him. “What?”

“You have your own place,” Tim says, reaching in a cabinet to grab the box of Cheez-its. “I think. I think you should start staying there. From now on.”

“Oh,” Roy says. He’s staring at the dent in the refrigerator they put there last week when they got drunk and thought hockey in the house was a good idea. “Yeah. That. That makes sense.”

“Don’t be mad.”

“What?” Roy laughs. Because it’s funny. It totally is. “I’m not. Why would I be mad? Anyway, I’m going. Home. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Tim says right before Roy shuts the door behind him and realizes just how fucking stupid he really is.

 

: : :

 

He doesn’t go home, of course. He goes straight to Jay and Steph’s apartment, totally forgetting that Jay’s full time PTA mom now, but apparently he looks terrible enough that Steph pulls out her phone and Jay shows up before Roy can even finish the beer Steph gave him 

“Okay, what’s wrong,” Jay says, hanging his jacket over the back of a chair when he walks in. 

Roy just shakes his head. “You didn’t have to come, man.” He says, then notices the shirt he’s wearing. “Shit, you’re missing the brat’s game.”

“It’s fine,” Jay says, sitting down on the couch with him. “I’ve been to like a million and Bruce is there. What’s going on, Roy?”

Roy shrugs, takes another pull from his bottle. “I think,” he lets out a little laugh because _fuck_ , how did he not see this coming. He is truly fucking stupid. “Tim’s done with me, I guess?”

Jason lets out a deep sigh and pulls Roy’s legs over his lap. Used to be Roy could manhandle Jay anyway he wanted him, but now Jason’s pretty much bigger than he is. Everything’s changing so much and Roy can’t fucking keep _up._

“Tell me what happened,” Jay says and he strokes Roy’s hair while Roy tells him everything, about how good things have been, how Dick’s pretty much moved in with M now, so it’s just been him and Tim around the apartment, how Tim’s been shoving people at him left and right. 

“Jesus,” Jason says and Roy can hear the sour bite of anger in his tone. “He’s freaked out.”

Roy just looks at him. 

“Think about it,” Jay says. “I’m baking cookies for fucking fifth graders, Dickie of all fucking people is in a _relationship_ and showing up to work on time and shit, and all of a sudden you two are being more domestic than you’ve ever been in your life. He’s having a fucking panic attack because he’s finally realizing you two are a fucking couple. I’m gonna kill him.”

“Jay,” Roy laughs. “We’re so not a couple. We’ve never been --”

“Roy, shut the fuck up,” Jason says. He always has this weird way of sounding fond when he says it. “What you and Tim are are a couple of fucking idiots.”

“Or,” Roy says. “I’m the idiot. Tim made it pretty clear he didn’t want any of...anything. I’m the dumbass that…”

He can feel Jay glaring at him when he trails off, takes another sip of his beer. 

“You need to tell him, Roy.”

“Nah,” Roy says, laying his head on Jay’s shoulder. “I’ll pass on getting the rejection of a lifetime, thanks. Tell me I’m pretty?”

Jason just sighs and runs his fingers through Roy’s hair. “The prettiest in all the land,” he says, pressing his lips to Roy’s forehead.

They fall asleep for a little while like that and sometime after one Roy wakes up to find they’ve moved around a little. Jason’s leaned back on one arm of the couch and Roy’s sprawled out on top of him, his head on his chest, Jasons’ heart thump-thumping against his cheek. He remembers they used to do this all the time, used to come back to Jason’s place after work and just crash. Roy could sleep for hours wrapped around him like that, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, kissing the back of his neck. He misses that, misses how Jay would follow him around like a puppy and look at him like he was the best thing, the way he wanted Roy around all the time, how they texted all day and all night if he couldn’t be. He misses having someone who’s into him just as much as he’s into them. 

When he stirs, Jay stirs too, bright eyes blinking awake and looking down at him. 

“Why’d we stop,” Roy says quietly, like he’s afraid someone’s going to hear him. “I loved you, you know.”

Then he’s leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Jason’s, touching the soft curls in his hair and licking into his mouth and Jason’s hands come up to his face and he’s kissing him back and it’s everything Roy remembers, it’s soft and it’s _perfect_ \-- until Jason pushes him back. 

“I love you too,” Jay says, stroking his cheek. “You were my first everything, man.”

“Sorry,” Roy murmurs, burying his face in Jay’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t have done that. _Fuck._ ”

“It’s okay,” Jay says, rubbing his back in small circles. 

“Nah,” Roy says before he falls back asleep. “But I’ll get over it.”


End file.
